Another
by Addison Kirby-Blue
Summary: Ava is a vampire. That is to say, she has an insatiable appetite for blood and incredibly sharp teeth. An outcast in a land of outcasts, and only Wolverine to help her.
1. She Looks A Lot Like Her

SHE LOOKS A LOT LIKE HER

Ava sat on her stool, her head resting on the table. Her hands fell lazily in her lap, and her body relaxed. It was times like this she wanted to go back to bed. She'd woken up in a terrible mood, much like every day, and as of yet it hadn't subsided. If anything, coupled with the casual arguments she'd had since she'd got up, her mood had intensified. She stared blankly at the toaster. Someone, she'd forgotten who, was waiting on their toast, but they'd long since left the kitchen. Ava didn't know why they couldn't have just done it themselves; they _did_ have the ability, after all.

The toaster popped, thrusting two slices of slightly charred bread into the air. Steam began rising, rolling up the wall and across the ceiling. It was a lot of steam for two slices of toast, Ava noted. Maybe the toaster had finally corked it. She wouldn't have been surprised; it had been going for several years with about ninety uses every day. It was a resilient toaster, but everything has its day.

"Shit!" Ava raised her eyebrows. The someone who'd left their toast had returned.

"Why didn't you call me, idiot?" Ava guessed that comment was aimed at her, but she wasn't really inclined to care.

"Hey! Ava! Are you listening?" Ava looked up, blinking a few times, letting her eyes adjust. She recognised the girl. Of course she did. Sometimes she just forgot. India.

"I am," Ava mumbled, waving lazily at India. Pretty girl. Long, poker-straight ebony hair. Piercing green eyes. Strong features.

"My toast is burnt!" India screeched, making Ava's ears twinge, "Weren't you watching?!"

"Was I supposed to?" Wasn't told to.

"Common sense!" Not really.

India ended up leaving the toast where it was. She dithered for a while, making high pitched noises before storming off. Spoiled child. Ava recalled that she was new. Sort of. She'd only been at the school for a few weeks, maybe more. India had come from a rich household, a miracle child. Parents unable to have children, finally have one. India was used to having her own way, and Ava was neither surprised nor bothered. These were the things that Ava knew.

Perhaps it was time to get up. Maybe. She'd have table-hair. Flat, but only on one side. She lifted her head, catching sight of herself in the randomly placed mirror on the wall. Hated the way she looked. Very long brown hair. Not an interesting shade of brown, just brown. Dull blue eyes, always one highlight short of life. The one redeeming feature was her incredible cheekbones. High and sharp. People told her she looked like Jean Grey. Whoever that was. People told her that was why _he_, Wolverine, had taken a shine to her. Wolverine. What was his name again? Why was she so terrible with names? Logan.

She sneered at her own reflection, turning away with a flourish and drifting out of the room. She welcomed the mahogany tone of the hall from the lino glare of the kitchen. Ava looked at a few of the people lounging around against the expensive panelling, working, chatting, living. She felt like joining them, but, probably, they'd reject her. Reject. The label suited her. Gave substance to her being. An outcast in the land of outcasts. Too mutant to be a Mutant.

Ava chuckled. She assumed that was how most people saw her. It was definitely how she saw herself. She thought she could see it in their eyes, always wondering what she was. Wondering if she knew how damn crazy she was. She was only crazy when she was alone. More often than not then.

"Ava?" She turned. Logan was peering out of the office, surprised to see her, "You okay?"

"Yeah..." she answered dreamily, a smile crossing her expression, "What day is it?"

Logan laughed, sounding relieved, "It's Thursday. How's...you know..." He gestured to his neck.

Ava thought for a moment, testing herself. "It's okay," she said after a few moments, "Not too much."

She hated it when Logan asked her about _that_. _That _being her insatiable thirst for blood. Blood-sucker. Vampire.


	2. This Means Nothing To Ava, Oh Vienna

THIS MEANS NOTHING TO AVA, OH VIENNA

Ava was bored. She'd wandered out into the gardens, rolling her eyes at the overcast day. There were more people sat on the lawn. They were all relaxing, despite the chill. Even Ava referred to those people as weirdos. Being a vampire, Ava was in no place to call people weird. Even in a world where a girl could walk through walls, and a man could turn himself to metal, Ava was just...odd. Vampires were myths. Myths were not supposed to exist.

However, as it was, Vampire was all she knew. She'd, supposedly, been born that way. Not that she could remember. Her memory was terrible. Like a sieve. A sieve with holes in the mesh. She'd been told (various different people, various different stories) that she'd been born with fully extended canines but no other teeth, and her eyes had been blood red. A far cry from the watery blue of her irises now. Her parents, or so she'd been told, she had nothing else to go on, had been terrified of their child. Their freak. They, obviously, didn't believe in vampires, so they were automatically in denial about the heritage of their baby. Mutants were all the rage then, so it was only natural for Ava to be branded as one before anyone had a second thought. And so, she was left on a doorstep. Just a random doorstep. The fact that the doorstep belonged to a kindly old couple who actually loved Ava was neither here nor there, and also incredibly clichéd. She tried to forget that part. Especially the ending. It wasn't a particularly...happy ending, but it wasn't without its highs.

It started to rain. The people who were sitting on the grass got up quicker than Ava thought them capable. They ran inside yelling obscenities at the sky. As if that was going to do anything. Ava welcomed the rain, looking up the the sky and letting the chilling drops cascade over her skin.

"Ava?" For some odd reason, she was popular today. Ava dropped her gaze and looked left, searching for the source of the voice. Storm.

"Are you doing this?" Ava asked flatly, pointing up at the sky.

Storm smiled and nodded.

"Any particular reason?"

"Yes, actually. I wanted to talk to you."

Ava blew air out of her cheeks. That was her least favourite phrase. Ever. It was even worse than 'I had some bad news'. Even then, wanting to talk usually entailed some bad news.

"Go on then," she said eventually, after deciding that whatever Storm was going to say was perhaps worth listening to.

"Has Logan said anything to you lately?"

"No..." Where on earth was _this _going?

"Oh, well, I may as well tell you then."

"Go on..." Ava shuffled her feet. Nervous energy.

"You know how you're a vampire and everything..."

"Yes." It was kind of difficult to forget.

"Well, we...how do I phrase this...we've found you a friend."

Ava sucked in air through her teeth. Great. A friend. Probably a quack. A quack with hand puppets called Happy Harry and Cheerful Charlie. Ava had met the kind before, and she'd also met Cheerful Charlie. She'd only heard stories of Happy Harry, but she still hated him. Cheerful Charlie and Ava hadn't quite hit it off the way the therapist wanted them to. Suffice it to say that Charlie ended up with only one eye and no arms. Still, there were many kinds of quacks in the world, and Ava had probably met eighty percent of them.

She'd been on and off of leather chaise-lounges ever since she'd come to the school. Nine years ago, six months and three days ago, to be precise. At first, they'd been worried about how much time she was spending on her own in her bedroom, so she was hurled into the office of a one Dr Geoff Browning PhD (he'd made a point of introducing himself that way) and forced to talk about her feelings. She went on strike, and refused to talk. The second time, they were worried about how she'd not yet made any friends. This was the time she met Dr Alvin George, and in turn, Cheerful Charlie. Being fourteen at the time, Ava had taken offence to how patronising Dr George was, and she'd broken her vow of silence to tell him so. And to verbally abuse Charlie. He'd had it coming to him, especially with his huge, googly eyes and wide grin. He was even offensive to look at. No child should ever have to look at that thing. He was nightmarish. Still, after Charlie, Logan and Storm gave up trying to put Ava into therapy. They'd decided it probably would never work.

"Is it a quack?" Ava asked. She may as well get to the point.

"No, actually. He's a vampire. Like you."


	3. Ava Is Comfortably Numb

AVA IS COMFORTABLY NUMB

It had been five days since Storm had told her about Ava's 'new friend'. She hadn't divulged any details, but Ava didn't mind. In fact, she was happy about that. That meant that she could imagine any kind of person. Anyone at all.

Today was the day that they were supposed to be here. Today, Ava sat at the window, hidden by a curtain, waiting, hidden by the curtain. She was more excited than she maybe wanted to be. She even had butterflies, and she never, _ever_ got butterflies. Butterflies were for people about to get married. Anything else was simply nervous energy. But today, Ava had butterflies.

She shifted her body slightly, feeling blood rushing around her limbs. She'd long since become numb sitting in a tighter version of the foetal position, but it was the only way she'd be able to cram herself onto the tiny window ledge, despite the fact she was kind of willowy. She rested her chin on her forearm, and stared out over the grounds. The weather was clear today. She could even see blue sky. The sun was obscured by a few grey clouds. She watched as a couple of students wandered out of the front gate. Jammy sods. It always irritated Ava when she saw people go out. She couldn't, seeing as Logan had deemed her unsafe for the rest of society. Fair enough, but it was still annoying. She'd managed to curb her urges around the students here. There were a lot of people that Ava had decided deserved to be bitten.

A car drove in through the open gates, piquing Ava's interests. She lifted her head, craning her neck to see the vehicle drive an arc to the front door. It was a nice door, she wouldn't deny that. An old Beemer, black, glossy. Gorgeous.

She didn't get up. Just in case. Instead, she watched, transfixed, as the driver stepped out. He. From where she was she didn't have an accurate gauge for his height, but he looked tall. He had platinum blonde, slicked back hair. Shades. A long, leather jacket. Black shirt. Black trousers. Black shoes. He looked like he meant business. He looked like a vampire. He looked nothing like what Ava had in mind. He looked like a vampire.

Sighing in disappointment, Ava unfurled her body and stepped out from the window ledge. She shook her body quickly, and sighed again. She was beginning to regret agreeing to this. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Walking down the stairs, a couple of girls she didn't recognise ran past her, talking in hushed voices. Ava raised her eyebrows. It was times like this that she usually wished she had a friend to whisper to. But not this time. This time she just wanted to be alone. To hide.

She got to the bottom of the stairs, half expecting to see the man to still be standing there, looking far too self-important. Instead, there was no-one. In fact, the hall seemed unnaturally quiet. Like when you hold your breath, how the world sounds different then. She headed to the office. The door was ajar. Stepping in, she wasn't surprised to see Logan sitting at the desk, hands clasped together, talking animatedly to _that _man. Storm was standing close to Logan. She was the first one to spot Ava standing slightly hidden behind the door.

"Ava!" She said excitedly, beckoning her in, "Just the girl we wanted to see!"

The man turned, and Ava felt a lurch in her stomach. Okay, he was _good _looking. Very good looking. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Unless he was a twat. Then they would have problems.

"Hi..." she said slowly, stepping into the office and slowly closing the door behind her, leaning nervously against the wood. The man nodded to her, turning back to Logan, who gestured for the man to introduce himself to Ava.

"Oh..." he muttered, "Yeah." English accent.

"Spike," he said, holding out a hand.

"Ava," she replied carefully, shaking it slowly. Spike. What an odd name. It probably wasn't his real name.

"Spike and I are...old friends..." Logan said, making a point of emphasizing the _old friends_. Meaning _he owes me one_.

"I'm sure," Ava nodded, not moving from her position against the door.

"He's here to...guide you."

Guide. Yeah, because she was an incredibly problematic teenager that required guidance. She eyed Spike carefully, like he was going to jump at her. He was just looking at her, his head inclined slightly.

"Ava," Storm said eventually, after the two of them had been staring at each other for several minutes, "Why don't you show Spike around?"

This was most definitely going to be _fun_.


	4. Ava Wants To Leave Right Now

AVA WANTS TO LEAVE RIGHT NOW

Ava and Spike left the office. Ava had no idea how she was going to do this. She could not be friends with this man. Ever. He was so...not her. Even though he'd hardly said a sentence to her, she could tell that they weren't going to hit it off. Then, inevitably, he would leave. Inevitably, Ava would end up alone.

She walked in the direction of the main lounge, and, luckily, Spike followed. She kept silent, not sure of what to say, or what to do. She didn't know what to do with her hands. She didn't even know if she was walking correctly.

"Are you all right?" Spike asked, looking at Ava like she was crazy. She nodded, raising her eyebrows into her hairline, mumbling something in reply. They got to the lounge. Ava pushed the door open, ducking in. Idiot.

"This is the lounge," she said, forgetting to pause between each word. _Thisisthelounge_.

"Look," Spike muttered, "I can do without the tour, really."

Well, what the hell was she supposed to do now?

"Where am I gonna be sleeping?"

How was she supposed to know _that_? "I have no idea."

"Useful."

"Oi, watch it. I actually have no idea who you are," she said, forgetting how nervous she was. She was just irritated now.

"I am Spike." He emphasized each syllable like he was talking to someone with no concept of the English language.

Ava raised her eyebrows, and walked out of the lounge. She couldn't be bothered with this. She didn't like this guy. It was debatable whether he liked her, too.

She launched herself up the stairs, jogging the rest of the way to her bedroom. She hoped that he wouldn't be rooming with her. She almost prayed.

Sitting at her desk, she pulled her journal out of the drawer. She took a pen from her pot and poised the nib over the page:

_November 18th, 2010_

_My 'friend' is a twat. I do not like him._

Satisfied with her entry, she turned her attention to the window. The weather had turned on her again. Rain was whipping against the glass, and was that thunder she could hear? Still, it was a change from the calm sunshine earlier. Ava rested her chin on her hand, feeling thoroughly glum. Despite the weather, she wanted to run away. Not that she hadn't tried before. Logan was kind of used to her making a break for it. In her first year, she'd tried, and succeeded, to get away five times. He'd found her each time, cold and wet, usually wandering the streets and looking generally unhappy.

Ava smiled reminiscently, wishing she could actually be bothered to run away. She'd turned lazy. It was all this...safety. It was going to her head. She ran her tongue along her over-extended canines, testing their sharpness. They were pretty sharp.

Suddenly, a knock on her door made her swing around in her chair. Spike. Standing at the door. Looking apologetic. Idiot. He had an annoying face. All smug. Ava wanted to punch him. Maybe she could...no, she wasn't fast enough.

"What?" She said flatly.

"Yeah...I'm, uh, rooming with you." Oh, she was going to punch him. Or Logan.

"And I'm sorry. About earlier." At least he could apologise.

"Sure," she said, shrugging, "Wrong foot."

Spike smiled slightly. "Can I come in?"

No you bloody can't. "Go on then."

He took a seat on the spare bed. Good choice, mate. Looked around the room. Probably surprised by the lack of decoration.

"I like things to be plain," Ava explained, looking around at the bare walls. God, that sounded lame. But it was the truth. She hated posters. She hated pictures. She shunned drawings. She hated fairy lights with a passion.

"No, fair enough. I get it." Spike smiled at her.

"Logan tells me you were born a vampire?"

Ava frowned at Spike. So what? Wasn't everybody?

"Yeah. What of it?" Defensive mode activated.

"Oh, nothing. It's just rare."

Her eyes narrowed. "...Rare?"

"Yeah, no, very rare. _Extremely _rare, even. One in three million vampires was born that way."

"Oh, so everyone else is bitten, right?" The sarcasm was killing her. Really.

"Uh, yeah."

Now she felt stupid. "I actually can't see how it's going to help me knowing that."

"Oh, but you'd be _revered _in the vampire community. You'd be a star." He was standing up now. He probably thought he looked epic. He looked like an idiot in a leather coat. Ava grunted.

"You don't seem too happy about that prospect."

"Why would I be? I don't want to be revered. I want to be normal. Can't even get the bloody cure."

Spike snorted, and sat back on the bed, leaning back casually. "That's because you're not a mutant."

"Oh, great, make me feel better. I don't fit in anyway, and now I know I'm not even a _mutant_. Thanks, Spike."

Spike stopped looking so excited. He raised his eyebrows slightly. Ava raised hers. He looked slightly worried. She felt slightly empowered. And stupid. Something about him made her feel stupid.

"You...don't like being a vampire?"

"No." Sherlock Holmes, him.

"Yet this is all you've ever known."

"Yeah. Lots of people are born into poverty. They don't like it." She was proud of her analogy.

"It's not quite the same though, is it?"

Ava swallowed the urge to launch into the story of her parents abandoning her. So she didn't know them. Didn't stop her hating them for leaving her. Vampire was the reason she was here. Vampire was the reason she was unhappy. She looked over at Spike. He was watching her intently.

"Were you bitten?" She asked. She could feel tears spiking her eyes, so just change the subject.

He paused for a moment. "Yeah, I was."

"When?"

"Several centuries ago."

"Really?" Why would he lie, idiot?

He nodded, and Ava looked back down at her diary. She thought for a second.

_November 18th, 2010_

_Actually, he's alright._


End file.
